


Serendipity

by yahootoldyou



Series: the modern au everyone should've asked for [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, Serendipity AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9616544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yahootoldyou/pseuds/yahootoldyou
Summary: “Would you like to come with me for a treat , real quick? I’m trying to avoid an annoying party,” Anakin asks, hoping that this beautiful stranger will stay and talk with him for a little while longer. Obi-Wan, who also has somewhere and someone to avoid for a little while, sees no reason why he shouldn’t get to know this strange boy from a strange land.“Sure, that sounds fun,” Obi-Wan answers.ORAnakin and Obi-Wan meet in a department store during the Christmas season in New York City.





	

The New York City air is crisp and well, not so clean, as Anakin Skywalker walks down the street in the middle of winter. His apartment is overflowing with his friends that have come to stay with him and his girlfriend, Padmé, leading him out into the streets for some much needed reprieve. His head is aching still with the lingering noise as he trudges down the street towards Times Square, hoping to maybe find some frozen yogurt. The air fogs with his breath as he watches the city, lights and snowflakes dancing before his eyes. Car horns blare and he just lifts his hood, shoving his hands into his pockets. His phones buzzing, probably with yet another call from Padmé wondering where he is. She’s wonderful, truly the woman of a man’s dreams and he loves her. He does, he swears he does. It’s just sometimes, with her political rich friends, he feels very out of place.

Anakin grew up on a farm upstate, near the city of Albany. Albany was big, but the Helderbergs had always sheltered him and his mother, giving her peaceful refuge from his dick of a father. He moved to Albany first to attend a local university, before falling in with one of the more prestigious groups. Soon enough, he had begun to date Padmé Amidala, the political science major and daughter of the largest donor to the college. That had been it, it had pushed him to the top of the job applicant list, gotten him an internship with the largest technology firm in New York, gotten him a job just under a year ago. He was happy with the state of his life and he owed a lot of it to Padmé, which is why he asked her to marry him in a carriage ride around Central Park. He had bought the biggest, prettiest ring in the store, knowing he would pay the money in just a couple of months with the job her wealthy father had bought him.

His nose practically turns up as he rounds the corner, wishing to find the thing that was so obviously missing from his life. He loves Padmé, he loves his job, he loves New York, but he is a Skywalker and they work for things. They work hard to earn their way in the world and Anakin feels wholeheartedly that he has cheated the system. Then he feels like more shit because what a first world problem. 

New York never changes, remains constant even as he falls deeper into his own self-dug hole. The air is still cold, the wind still windy, and he is still lost in New York. Which, Anakin figures, would be quirky and fun if it were in a Home Alone type of way and he was in a position to be rescued, but he isn’t. Nobody is coming to rescue Anakin Skywalker from his perfect job, or his perfect apartment, or his perfect fiancé. Nobody takes pity on the golden boy, after all. He rubs his hands against his jeans, but even the steady friction does not warm them, leading Anakin right into Bloomingdale’s. He hadn’t realized how far he walked until he piled through the door, hoping to find a pair of gloves to make the long walk home to Padmé and her socialite followers. 

To his right there is a table with racks of gloves. He makes his way towards them, long legs carrying him around busy Christmas shoppers. Carols ring throughout the store, loud and bringing his headache back rapidly. Trying to not huff or sigh in his existential pain, he finally reaches the table, reaching automatically for the black cashmere gloves. They’re not girly and he can appreciate nice things, even if he knows he’ll present them to Padmé as an apology for ditching her dinner party/sleepover. His fingers brush them just as others do, pale fingers coming across his own tanner ones. He looks up, expecting to have to haggle someone for them, even though he doesn’t really need the specific pair. He just fights over little things sometimes, it makes him feel vindicated amongst the vast public of New York. Instead of a hostile stranger though, Anakin comes face to face with flushed cheeks, grey eyes, and ginger hair. The man in front of him smiles kindly, the crinkles near his eyes deepening briefly. He takes the fingers away from Anakin’s, giving him the pair of gloves. Anakin finds he is too stunned to speak until the beautiful stranger turns to walk away from him.

“Wait!”

 

 

New York is the craziest foreign land Obi-Wan Kenobi has ever seen, the tourist attractions never ending and the people rude, but not London level rude. He feels a sense of home amongst the tall buildings and smelly streets. Vendors shout into the air, cars beep and honk, and chatter from the people around him feeling his ears constantly as he walks. He tries to listen to conversations the further he walks, but he hears some questionable things and decides that maybe he should mind his own business. Briefly, he stops to grab a pretzel at a closing vender, the man smiling at him with missing teeth. Obi-Wan smiles shyly in return and continues on his way down the road. 

The air is cold and it bites his hands, making him sincerely wish that he had brought a pair of gloves with him. His best friend, Asajj, would make fun of him for this if she hadn’t ditched him at a bar and told him to “entertain” himself for a few hours. She’s the absolute worst, but he loves her anyway. Loves her enough to allow her to drag him all the way to New York for a girls week. She is crazy and he is not a woman, but he lets her crazy british ass do exactly what she wants and so here he is, alone and happy in New York City. 

So far, he has two bags in his arms, happy and content to walk along until he finds a nice bar to have a quick coffee in before storming back to his hotel and demanding Asajj kick out whatever guy has taken place in her side of the bed. Well, it better be her side of the bed, he will never forgive her otherwise. His hands protest a bit again and he blows hot air on them, not willing to give them any reason to stop their adventure around New York. 

Obi-Wan hails from London, England, born and raised in the city. He loves the energy, the sheer vital thrill that comes from liberal, civilized society. His family is on the wealthier side, but Obi-Wan likes to live humbly, without all of the jazz his sister loves. The air of city life is polluted and it has polluted him, corrupting him from the inside out. He would never live outside of the city, he couldn’t, it is simply not in his nature. After college, he had started his profession as a journalist in London, sharing an apartment with Asajj, who’s stepfather was a Count and payed for literally everything, while also experimenting and going on as many adventures as he could. Youth did not last forever, this was something he knew all too well. 

Deciding, finally, that his hands need to be rescued, Obi-Wan trudges through the piling snow towards Bloomingdale’s at the end of the road. He scrunches in his coat, very unhappy to be facing the wind. People pour in and out of the noisy entryway, the sounds of talking and christmas music attacking his senses. In a true tourist fashion, he browses, knowing he still has several more hours until the vicinity of his hotel room is even remotely safe. And that is assuming Asajj left the bar near the time he did, which more than likely did not happen. 

Shelves are stacked inside of the store, Obi-Wan turning from aisle to aisle in the oversized building, trying to take up as much time as he possibly can before coming upon the small table of gloves. He looks at them, knowing he should pick a pair that are comfortable and warm. Absentmindedly, he is aware of the other man on the other side of the table, but he pays the stranger no mind, content in searching leisurely. Lazily, his hand reaches out to grip at a pair of black cashmere ones and he suddenly feels the edge of his knuckles grazing against human flesh. Obi-Wan’s eyes come up to find the most beautiful boy he has ever seen. Blonde curls and blue eyes engrave themselves into Obi-Wan’s brain at first sight. Seconds later than normal reaction time, Obi-Wan relinquishes the gloves to the very handsome stranger, moving to place them closer to him. The man’s eyes never leave Obi-Wan’s face and he would find it creepy if it weren’t with wonder and attraction. Obi-Wan, though, is too old to play games. He smiles his best smile and walks away, confident that he has the real upper hand. He’ll pick another pair of gloves, he could give less than a fuck.

“Wait!” 

 

 

He hears a voice call out and he turns as nearly everyone else in the store does. The man from earlier runs up to him and he can see that the man is probably more a boy, just really starting out in life and love. He smiles up at him again, the blue eyed blonde finally smiling back. Obi-Wan swears he feels the air rush out of his lungs as the boy places a black cashmere glove in his hand. It’s just the one, the other clutched tightly in the boy’s big, tan hands… Obi-Wan forces his eyes upward, completely not planning on anything romantic while in New York. He smiles at the boy-man again. 

“Hello,” he greets, eyes twinkling with the reflection of christmas lights hung around them. 

“Hey,” the boy breathes out and oh, there’s that voice again, the one Obi-Wan is sure could undo him completely in only minutes.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, but my friends call me Ben,” the ginger holds out the hand not grasping the glove. The boy looks down in surprise before sticking his hand out as well.

“Anakin Skywalker,” the boy-no, Anakin, responds with a lazy grin. He has an American accent, but Obi-Wan cannot determine from where. It’s not Southern, or New England, or even New Yorker, so Obi-Wan ponders it, wishing he had another moment to talk with him. Anakin looks at Obi-Wan with a funny look in his eyes and his head tilted before saying, 

“Would you like to come with me for a treat , real quick? I’m trying to avoid an annoying party,” Anakin asks, hoping that this beautiful stranger will stay and talk with him for a little while longer. Obi-Wan, who also has somewhere and someone to avoid for a little while, see’s no reason why he shouldn’t get to know this strange boy from a strange land. 

“Sure, that sounds fun,” Obi-Wan answers, smiling faintly and handing Anakin back the glove.

“Here,” he says as he does, “I can go grab another pair it’s not a problem.” Anakin looks down in surprise of the returned glove, a pang of sadness flowing through him that Obi-Wan did not deem to keep it. He can’t figure out why he is so interested in getting to know the English man, but he is and he knows it, so why fight the urge? He hurts no one by going to get ice cream with a new friend. 

Once they pay for the gloves, they both pour out into the street, Anakin grasping Obi-Wan’s arm lightly. 

“Come with me,” he says and Obi-Wan nods, following Anakin down a street back towards his hotel. The air is cold, but the black gloves keep Anakin warmer than he was before and he rubs them together, thanking them and the force for allowing him to meet this stranger on a cold winter night. 

 

 

Serendipity 3 is cozy and fun, Anakin pulling Obi-Wan into the famous restaurant and off of the cold street. He tells Obi-Wan to go find them a table while he buys them each a Frrrozen Hot Chocolate, a very famous beverage he has loved since Padmé introduced it to him years ago. The drink smells heavenly as he carries them back, endeared by the sight of Obi-Wan on his phone. Both men drink them with reverence, enjoying the chocolatey goodness inside of the cups.

“To be honest, when you told me about frozen hot chocolate, I thought someone had swindled you,” Obi-Wan giggles out, “I thought it was just chocolate milk!” Anakin laughs, finishing his drink as the two talk idly about nothing. Anakin doesn’t share many details about his current life and neither does Obi-Wan, keeping respectable distance. Anakin wonders if he has someone to go home to as well. 

“Nah,” he laughs, “they actually somehow manage frozen hot chocolate.” Anakin and Obi-Wan sit in the restaurant as the night stretches on, a clock chiming to alert them of the tenth hour. Startling out of his moment, Anakin realizes he has been gone far too long and Padmé is probably looking for him. 

“I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I have to go, the party I escaped is looking for me,” Anakin says, wanting to punch himself and Padmé’s dumb friends for not keeping her entertained enough that she wouldn’t notice his absence. Looking at his phone, he sees five missed calls. He groans throatily, knowing he is thoroughly fucked when he gets home, Padmé more than likely ready to rip into him with sharp, political claws. 

“Oh,” Obi-Wan says, a small smile touching his lips, “that’s perfectly alright, Anakin. Thank you for showing me a part of the city I had never seen,” Obi-Wan reaches a hand out when Anakin does, shaking it even as they both don’t want to part. 

“Goodbye,” Anakin calls as he leaves the shop, starting the long walk home to his angry fiancé. He makes it about a block before his hands start to scream in protest of the air. He digs his hands into his pockets, looking for the gloves he had just bought. Groaning, Anakin realizes he must’ve forgotten them at the restaurant and turns on his heel to return. They were expensive gloves and he will get them back, even if it means being reminded of both Padmé and Obi-Wan.

 

 

Obi-Wan starts his walk back to his hotel, knowing he’ll probably have to demand Asajj get rid of her bed partner. He thinks of the magical night he had just spent with a total stranger, wanting to pull out his phone and call his sister overseas to tell her all about it. The thought is too tempting and he reaches for it in his pocket, searching for several minutes until he realizes he has to back to the restaurant. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he sighs in annoyance, happy he was only about a block away. He hopes it’s still there when he returns for it.


End file.
